


Dinner

by Dazzledfirestar



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Comfort Sex, F/M, Kitchen Sex, Snark, sort of? idk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-18
Updated: 2014-10-18
Packaged: 2018-02-21 15:25:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2473130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dazzledfirestar/pseuds/Dazzledfirestar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After dealing with politicians who couldn't find their own ass with both hands, she deserved a nice, quiet night in.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dinner

**Author's Note:**

  * For [igrockspock](https://archiveofourown.org/users/igrockspock/gifts).



> Written for igrockspock for the five acts meme on LJ.

If there was one thing that very rarely happened in her life at that point, it was being surprised. After all the weird shit she’d seen—and trying to explain that weird shit to a bunch of old men in words small and simple enough for them to understand. For days on end.—there was very little in the universe, she thought, that could put her off her game.

But after the day she’d had—“No, sir, we are not currently tracking the Hulk because you’ve dismantled SHIELD’s infrastructure.” “You’d have to get a biochemist in here to explain to you how one can get super powers, Senator.” “Mr. Stark has proprietary rights to the Iron Man technology. That was not part of SHIELD, but feel free to bring it up with his legal department.”—the sight in her kitchen was damn near staggering.

The whole apartment smelled like sweet barbeque sauce and fresh garlic bread. As she watched the mastermind behind this particular surprise work, she couldn’t help but smile. “What are you doing?”

“What does it look like? I’m making you dinner.”

“Okay.” She put her bag down and moved into the kitchen, leaning against the counter next to him, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath of the wonderful smells around her. “This might be the first time a dead man’s made me dinner.”

“You’re welcome.” The fact that he smiled was surprise number two.

“You’re supposed to be in Milan by now.”

“I’m supposed to be six feet under.”

“Fair enough.” She sighed and hopped up on the counter. “Does this mean you’re staying?”

“This means I’m making you dinner.”

“Right.”

“You can handle this, Maria.”

“No, Stark’s lawyers can handle it. I’m just left holding the bag because somebody decided to fake his own death.” She frowned and picked up one of the carrots 

“I could have stuck around and taken a couple more bullets, if that’d make you feel better.”

She sighed and shook her head. “Nick…”

“It’s okay. I know the kind of idiots you’re dealing with.” He moved closer to her, turning down the oven like he expected the meal to have to wait on them for some reason. She was starting to like the idea of skipping it entirely but he’d done all the prep work and it did smell fantastic. “I can take it.”

Maria sighed and pulled him in closer. “Shouldn’t have to.”

“None of us should have to. None of this should have happened. I should have seen it coming.”

“ _We_ should have.”

“That too.” He sighed and moved closer, settling between her knees and offering her one finger tip that had gotten too close to the clearly homemade sauce. She smiled a little and obliged in tasting it. If she sucked a little longer on his fingertip than was completely necessary, he didn’t seem to mind. “Hungry?”

She nodded, smirking just a little at the obvious double entendre. She pressed her heels into the backs of his thighs to get him closer and kissed him, not too gently nipping at his bottom lip. “Very.”

“Dinner first.”

“Still acting like the boss.”

“Old habits.” He chuckled and kissed her again before pulling back to check on their dinner. “Go get changed, I’ll get this on the table.” She hopped down off the counter and raised an eyebrow at him. “Don’t want you going to a hearing with sauce all over your suit.”

She rolled her eyes and smacked his shoulder—the one that didn’t have a fresh scar on it. At least not one she knew about—even as she left the room. If she was honest about it, coming home to Nick making her comfort food and handing her a cold beer was probably the best thing that had happened to her since SHIELD fell. She could get used to it but clearly wouldn’t get the chance. “When are you leaving again?” She slipped into a seat at the small table and waited for an answer.

“Tomorrow night. Barton’s got some intel in Donetsk.”

She nodded and took a bite of one of the short ribs on her plate. It was taking some adjustment, not knowing which ops which of them were out on at any given time, but if he was going to insist on spoiling her before he took off again, she wasn’t going to complain. “Any plans for the rest of the evening?” She smirked and took another bite, savoring it. He really was a wonderful cook.

That got a chuckle. “Whatever you want to do, we do.”

“Oh really?” She grinned as she pulled apart the garlic bread and took a bite. She didn’t think he’d baked it from scratch, but it was warm and garlicky and complimented the ribs perfectly so she wasn’t going on call him on it. “I’ll have to think about that.”

He chuckled again and they lapsed into silence as they ate. As she took the last bite of the last roll, she smiled. “Thank you.”

“Any time.”

“Any time you’re in the country.”

“Yeah, that.” He smiled back and picked up the empty dishes.

Maria followed with the few he hadn’t been able to carry. “I’m not going to make you clean up by yourself too.”

“It’s been a long day for you.”

“By the looks of what we just ate, you too.” She tapped his hip with her own and started the water in the sink. “I’ll wash, you dry.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He smirked even as she snapped a towel at him. He grabbed the end and took up a position next to her, ready for the first clean dish. 

She was willing to admit to herself that part of the plan was to raise the already high tension between them. See how far small touches and the occasional verbal jab could take them. When he moved around behind her under the pretense of putting away the roasting pan and his fingers grazed the patch of skin where her tank top and her shorts didn’t quite meet, she thought the tension was more than ready to break. 

Maria pulled the plug in the sink and turned, pressing her back to the edge of the counter. “Anything I want, huh?”

“That’s what I said.” Nick hung the dish towel on the handle of the oven and locked his eye on her.

She hopped up on the counter, kicking her shorts off in the process. She licked her lips and smiled. “Where were we?”

He took a couple steps closer, settling, as he had before, between her legs and pulling her to the edge of the counter to kiss her deeply. “Right about here.” She shivered at the rasp of his goatee against her skin as he kissed down her neck. “Still haven’t told me what you want though.”

She pulled back, just enough to glare at him a little. “I thought it was pretty clear.”

He smirked back. “You want to make out on the counter?”

She dug her heels into the back of his thighs again. “I want you to fuck me on the counter.”

“Was that so hard?”

She didn’t answer; just pulled him in for another deep kiss as she tugged on his belt and the fly on his jeans. Her hands move up from his waist for just a moment, sliding under his shirt and down again to tug the jeans and his underwear down enough to get at his cock. He was half hard already and quickly getting the rest of the way there as she stroked him.

She keened softly as his fingers tugged at the fabric between her legs, dipping into her for a second before pulling back again. She let him reposition her, shifting the angle of her hips so she could easily pull him in. He didn’t bother pulling her panties off; just moved them aside and buried himself in her in one easy thrust. 

She wrapped her legs around him, ankles crossed at the small of his back as his hand shifted around her hips to grip her ass and hold her in place as he started to move. She groaned, moving with him, dragging her hands up and down his back, digging her heels in to try and urge him to speed up. She felt him smile against her skin a moment before he gave in and thrust harder and faster into her.

She usually tried to hold out, tried to make him work for it but after the day she’d had, she didn’t have the patience for it. Her breath caught and she dug her nails into his shoulders. “Don’t stop! Don’t fucking stop!” She let out a shamelessly loud cry as her body pulled tight around him. She felt more than heard him chuckle as she shivered and clung to him.

If there was one compliment she’d willingly pay Nick Fury, it was that he was stubborn as hell. Which means, her yelling ‘don’t fucking stop’ meant he wouldn’t. Not until she came at least one more time. Luckily, that wasn’t going to take long. One hand held tight to her ass, holding her in place so she wouldn’t bang her head against the cupboards above them. She cried out again when the other hand slipped between them, fingers pressing against her clit. “I don’t got all night, Hill.”

She laughed between panted breaths. “Got somewhere else you’d rather be?” She didn’t get an answer right away. He pressed hard on her clit and sent her over the edge again and held out just long enough himself to watch her give in.

They stayed there for a few minutes before he spoke. “The bed. I’d rather be there.”

She smirked and when she was sure her knees weren’t going to give out on her, she hopped down. “I think I might be able to help you out there.”


End file.
